The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1887-11-14
AyIsIr TO GERONIMO.
The Blond-Thirsty Apache AHabie aud Smti-
ing and in Love with Prison Life.

The Biond-Thirsty Apache Affabie aud Smii-
ing and in Love with Prison Life.
Pensacola (Fla-) Correspondence Philadelphia Timee
We have shivered through first cold snap.
Two weeks since the air little wintry. but
the past week only made light wraps necessary:
To-day it is mild and beautiful almost beyond
belief. Wespent the first part of the morning
on the piazza until some one thought OF trip
on the bay, and we promptly decided 20 go. We
did not regret our decision.
As we lett the wharf of this quaint city, which
unfortunately fast losing its quaintness in the
march of improvements, and steamed through
the shipping there was general sigh Of salts
faction. Life was beautiful. Indian summers
soft haze gently toned the vivid blue sky and wa
ter and gave mistiness to otherwise sharp out
lines. Our little tug puffed and Kissed and
sweiled with Importance. and we realized its re-
soonsibilities were not proportioned to its size
The bay sparkled and danced In tiny waves and
happy languor had taken possession OF it and
US.
We stopped fret at the hayward to put off a
passenger and admired the solid-lookng brick
buildings. beautiful avenues of trees and fine
sea wall. The shops closed. There is a
rumor of the governments intention reopen
them, which will be of benefit to this rapidly
growing city But neared the prin-
cipal point of interest Fort Pickens and it's In
dian prisoners of war. Fort Pickens is situated
on Santa Rosa island, one side of which is washed
by the deep blue waters of the bay while on
the other shore breaks the surf of the Gulf or
Mexico clear and green AS we neared the land
ing we observed several groups of Indians and
one officer in their midst They gathered about
the boat, showing the curiosity of we'll bred and
digniied children, the principal man among
them being Mangas, ono of the chiefs.
As we stepped on the wharf he pulled mp his
fishing lire with a little pompano on the hook.
| took the fish off for him and he smiled at me
amiably. It seemed impossible that this smll-
ing fellow calmly fishing in his Imprisonment.
could be the fierce and desperate man who had
jumped through the car window with the train
at full speed, counting any mode of death rather
than the modification of surrender.
We passed on within the fort At the door of
the first room were two Indian women seated
on the floor playing cards Our civilization has
taught them this. They ceased their game
we came up and smiled at the party. The
soldier with could not interpret, our con-
versatlon was limited to a few signs.
Next we met woman with baby swinging
on her back She stopped to let US examine the
little fellow. They have a most remarkable
instrument of torture" as we dubbed it. for
carrying the ''pappooses" until they can walk.
It is of wood. shaped something like coffin.
with the sides very much lower, though. In
that the child is placed and strapped, from its
neck down to it's heels, its hands straight down
by its sides, so that the little move its
head only. This arrangement has band of
leather which the mother passes around her
forehead When busy at anything she stands
it up against the wall post. OF all the
babies saw there did not hear whim-
per. The women are very friendly and seemed
pleased at the attention paid them and their
children by visitors, LAUGHING a great deal and
showing invariably fine rows of teeth. We saw
great quantities of bead-work, baskets ETC.,
which they busy preparing to sell winter
tourists, but we did not purchase, as Indian
work is SO much better done By Americans now.
We soon reached Geronmo's quarters. He
sat on a chair his door and of his
squaws was on the ground near him, while a
baby just walking played about his feet. Within
the room the bed were seated little boy and
girl, jabbering away for all they worth.
who quite scorned all our efforts attract them
to us Geronimo was more suave than any In
dian man have ever seen. He smiled and
shook hands and his manner was almost affable.
was much amused to see the murderous old
fellow play with his child. One of his squaws
died last week, but he didn't mourn very long.
We had been told that Natchezswas more
naughty than all the others, but I think we
caught him his red-letter day. he
polite He is the fnest-lookipg of any of the
chiefs and his face is more honest. Geronimo
has blander smile, but would never inspire
confidence Natchez's hands and feet very
small. He stood up for Us to look at He is
long and 1.-the Of limb, and looks as if his
strength were quick and nervous rather than of
the enduring kind His hatred of Geronimo
does not seem to abate In fact, the old dip
the other chiefs. They hold him accountable
for their surrender and have never forgiven
him. They are very chary about associating
with him.
A great pity came me as we turned to
go. thought of their free life in the great far.
reaching country OF the West, their hatred OF
pale faces of the East. Here they were, shut
within four narrow walls, subject to their
despised couquerors and their equally hated
modes of life. wondered they did not rise in
their wrath and slaughter the handful Of men
who have them in charge. But life seems
sweet to all human beings. and soon learn
prudence if the penalty of recklessness be death:
The storms of few weeks since terrified
them. The big water" inspires them with an
awe and dread that nothing else does, and it
was infinite relief to them when the heavens
cleared and the waters were again calm. The
booming of the surf, which sounded like the
play of artillery far in the city, filled them
with unspeakabie terror. What will become OF
them7 Will their lives be spent in prison?
1t is knotty question, and which
the government has not yet solved. They are
not quite the heroes of Cooper. and their love
of dirt and treachery are repusive; but they
are men, and men of so different birth and rear
ing cannot force them quite yet into our
narrower grooves.